Chapter 11

Ken Hutchinson was waiting at the main gate to the meat packaging plant when the black TransAm drew to a halt. He leaned casually against the side of his own new car, the seventh in a long line of old, dust coloured, rust enhanced beaters and watched as his partner got out of his own car, shuddered slightly at the sight of the ruined hood and walked over to join him. Something about Starsky had changed that night – something good. Hutch had made a science out of watching his buddy surreptitiously. Since the smaller man had got out of the hospital Hutch had made it his job to make sure Starsky was ok, meaning pain free or at least with his pain under control. He'd watched as Starsky had fought back to health and Hutch had started his own personal battle to get back to the cop he knew he could be…..before Kira…..before the shooting…. before his life went down the pan. Whilst Starsky's hair was worn fashionably longer these days, Hutch had gone back to his customary shorter style and was once again clean shaven and a tower of lean, blond muscle. Side by side, he and Starsky had battled to regain their former fitness and the day that the police surgeon finally admitted that Starsky had proved everyone wrong and was now ready to resume his place at Hutch's side, both men had had the celebration to end all celebrations.

Life was good. They were complete again. Salt and pepper; wet and dry; day and night. Starsky and Hutch.

But after the celebration had ended, the hard work began again. Despite his physical fitness, it had taken the brunet a lot of time and a lot of mental discipline to get back onto the street. Even Starsky was surprised how vulnerable he'd felt that first time he'd ridden out with Hutch. Loud noises; sudden moves, all held the possibility of further attacks on him and by the end of that first week, he admitted to himself, if not to Hutch that he was a mental wreck.

Hutch had watched his partner battle his demons, knowing there was little he could do to help except be there for Starsky. Not that Starsky would have accepted much help – he was, as always, stubborn to the end, the very quality that had brought him through the bullets, pain, fevers, infections and multiple surgeries. This was something the smaller man had to do for himself and gradually as the days wore on, Starsky's confidence started to return to the point where Dobey finally gave them a proper assignment instead of interviewing bit players, catching up with contacts and snitches and generally getting back into the game. Then came the name "Red Dragons" and life began for real. Both men got a new lease of life and plunged themselves into the assignment with all the zeal of rookies, staying late in the squad room, ploughing through piles of records and exchanging the playful insults they'd missed in months past.

There was something always missing however. Hutch couldn't put his finger on exactly what that "something" was until now. As he watched Starsky walking towards him, it suddenly dawned on Hutch that he'd missed that strut of those slim hips. For the past 6 weeks Starsky had been walking around almost as though he were treading on eggshells, as though he wanted to be invisible –not scared, not even cautious. It was something indefinable, until now.

The strut was back, and with it the crooked grin and a fire behind those indigo blue eyes that had not been there for almost a year. It warmed Hutch's heart and yet he knew if he was to comment on it, Starsky would immediately deny that anything had changed. And so Hutch plastered his best "bad cop" expression on his face and scowled at his partner.

'Took ya long enough' the blond muttered.

'The best things are worth waiting for. At least that's what I told Jade.'

'I didn't interrupt anything important did I?' Hutch asked innocently.

Starsky gave Hutch his best poker face. 'I had a stiff problem and I was about to come up with a solution. Your timing stinks Hutchinson. What do we have here?'

'Dobey phoned and told me to get you and meet him down here. Same M.O. as before. The vic has had his throat ripped out, but not before someone had a real good time with…..Starsk? Are you listening to me? Starsky!'

Starsky brought his attention back to Hutch with an effort. 'Huh? You were saying?'

'Jeez, I know you say I can be boring but….. What got your attention buddy?'

Starsky rubbed at the side of his nose thoughtfully. 'Our mole. I thought I saw a car I recognised driving away.'

Hutch's voice lowered, even though there was no-one other than his partner within earshot. 'Patterdale?'

'I can't be certain, but….yeah. I think so.'

'Oh now wait a minute Starsk. Are you telling me that Clay Patterdale, a cop of twenty years, has somehow murdered….. shit!'

Starsky shook his head. 'I'm not sayin' anything for now. It might not have been his car. It might not have been him.'

'Uh huh. And the next President of the United States might not be a white guy. C'mon Starsk. It's all starting to fit into place.'

'It's an ugly place.'

'We've been to worse.'

'Not with someone we've known so long.'

'I thought you didn't like Patterdale?' Hutch said.

'Uh uh. I don't dislike him. It's him that always seems to have a problem with me.'

Hutch shrugged. 'Really! And you such a likeable guy. C'mon Dobey's waiting.'

Starsky paused for a moment and then jogged to catch up with his partner. 'Hey! I'm likeable….sometimes. What do we tell Dobey?'

Hutch stopped in his tracks. 'Do you want to be the one to tell him that his longest serving officer is the mole without a shred of solid evidence to back that statement up?'

The brunet cocked his head on one side. 'When you put it like that…. Ok, we keep schtum.'

Hutch nodded. 'For now, yeah. But there's gonna come a time.'

Starsky shook his head. 'I vote you get to break the good news. I'll be the guy hidin' right behind ya.'

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'Did he die well?' Kim asked the cop sitting uneasily across from him.

'He didn't die easily, if that's what you mean. He took his time.'

'So you had to be up close and personal?' The Chinese man sat forwards a little in his seat and the pulse in the side of his neck throbbed visibly, like a neon sign flashing "excited" to the world. There was a light behind his dark brown eyes that glowed with an orange fire and the cop opposite felt as though Kim's eyes were boring into his.

The cop swallowed hard. The fight had been hard and the victim had been scared enough as to try anything to get away with his life. The look in the victim's eyes when the cop finally held him down, his hand poised to rip out that throbbing, bobbing throat would stay with him in his nightmares for the rest of his life. 'I had to be closer than I would have liked, yes. But since you forbade me from using a gun, because as you pointed out the ammunition could be traced back to the owner, I had to go with what I had available – my hands.'

'You did well. Does anyone suspect? Are you able to keep this from your partner? I know how it is with you cops. Your partner is like your brother, or even your keeper.'

The cop snickered. 'He's a rookie when it comes to things like this. I've made sure enough that he doesn't know fuck about me. If he does suspect, which I'm sure he doesn't, it's been nothing I've done or said that's led him to that suspicion.'

'Good. Now we must turn our attention to more current problems. Those two cops are getting too close for my comfort. The dark haired one is even trying to date my sister.'

'Starsky is a ladies man. He'll fuck anything in a skirt. As for Hutch, he isn't far behind in the Romeo stakes.'

Kim wagged his finger at the cop. 'I don't like them swimming in my soup. I want them gone. How do we do it?'

The cop swallowed. It was OK to kill one of Bay City's scum with his bare hands, but now they were beginning to talk about killing other cops. That wasn't what he'd joined the force for. Too much time had passed for him to even contemplate killing one of his team members.

'I don't um…..I don't.'

Kim stood and started to pace. 'You don't run with the Dragons without paying the price. This is the price and don't forget I know where your family live. We live by our code and our code is honour first. You will do exactly as I wish, or your family will find themselves attending a funeral. Am I making myself clear?'

'As day, but it's tough.'

Kim grinned wolfishly. 'I wouldn't ask if it were easy. Now tell me how I can make sure that those two cops don't spoil my plans.'

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'I need a burrito' Starsky said as they stepped out of the packaging plant into the heat and the early morning sunshine. The place smelled of death at the best of times, but the stench of fear also hung heavy in the air inside the vast building and the flies had already made themselves at home on the corpse of the victim. This time it was Freddy "The Nose" Wilson. He was a bit player in Bay City, nothing more and he'd been one of Starsky and Hutch's best snitches….. until his throat had been ripped out. His eyes had been wide and fearful even in death and Hutch shuddered at the memory.

'How can you even consider food after that?' he asked.

'Protein is good for you' the brunet muttered sagely. 'And apart from that the smell of fried onions might just get the stink of death out of my nostrils.'

Hutch took the half hunter watch out of his pocket and flicked the lid open. The fingers were crawling around to 5.45. 'It's time we were signing off anyhow. My constitution obviously isn't as strong as yours buddy. I'm gonna go home and get a couple of hours kip before we have to be back on duty.' Hutch yawned and stretched and scrubbed his hands down his face tiredly.

'I'm gonna head back down town. There's a couple of things I want to check out before I turn in. Then maybe I can meet Jade and…..'

'You will make time to work somehow?' Hutch made it a question and raised his eyebrows although inside he felt happy for his partner.

Starsky grinned. 'If I have the energy after breakfast with Jade….'

The blond threw up his hands in mock surrender. 'Enough already! I'll be around at your place at 10.30. Dobey wanted to see us at 11.'

Starsky checked his watch. 'It'll have to be a quickie with Jade then. See ya.' He got into his car and asked for a patch through to the number Jade had given him. As he signed onto the radio, however, Minnie's voice interrupted his request.

'Starsky, I have a patch through from Joe Boone. He seems a little upset.'

'Boone? What does he want?'

'Honey, it's almost 6. I've been working since 10 last night and I'm pooped. I'm the messenger, nothing more. Now are ya going to take the patch and let a girl get some well earned shut eye?'

Starsky sighed dramatically. 'I could come and snuggle.'

Minnie tutted loudly down the phone. 'You couldn't handle me honey. I'm more woman than you could imagine.'

'I can imagine plenty.'

'Patching Boone through.'

There was a click and a hiss of static on the line and then Joe Boone's voice. 'Starsky? Is that you? Where are you? Can you talk? Oh god!'

'Hey, Boone. Slow down buddy. What's the matter? Don't tell me, the Metro's burned down and we're all out of jobs.'

'Patterdale is missing. I need your help.'

'Clay? Shit!' Starsky's memory took him back to just before he and Hutch walked into the meat packaging plant and the brunet watched the big black car drive away. 'When did you see him last?'

'A while ago. He said…. He said he had somewhere to be and that's the last I've seen of him. We had an argument and….'

'Have you told Dobey that you're worried?'

'No! Oh god no. Dobey has me on probation anyway. I don't want to tell him I've lost my partner. You know what it's like Starsky. There's only you I can turn to. Will you help me? I think……I think he's into something.'

'Something as in something criminal?' Starsky asked, his mind working a mile a minute.

There was a pause. 'I don't want to talk here. Can we meet somewhere? Somewhere private. I could um….. Maybe I could meet you at mine, or maybe better if it's your house. Can I meet you there, now?'

Starsky thought for a moment and then sighed. If he suspected Hutch of bending the law he wouldn't tell Dobey either. Boone was just trying to be a good partner to Patterdale – even if Patterdale didn't seem to deserve it. '2000 Ridgeway. I'll see you in 20 minutes.'

'Hurry Starsky. I'm really worried about him. I don't know what to do.'

The curly haired cop slammed his car door closed and thought for a moment of calling Hutch to meet him at his house too. The blond man had looked all in. Hutch was tired and needed sleep and in any event, Starsky could find out details from Boone first and call Hutch afterwards. Patterdale wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Starsky drove purposefully through the early morning sunshine. The brightness was infectious and as he drove he put the radio on and joined in with "Lets do the Time Warp Again" at the top of his voice. By the time he turned down the road to his house, his feelings of unease had dissipated and he pulled to a halt outside his apartment, turned off the engine and got out of the car, taking a deep breath of the sweet early morning air. There was no sign of Boone's car yet and so Starsky bounded up the steps, put his key in the lock and let himself into his living room quietly.

With the drapes still drawn from the night before, the place was in darkness and his hand fumbled for the light switch. As he felt the toggle beneath his fingers, a prickle of apprehension ran up Starsky's spine and raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Rattler quick, he started to reach beneath his jacket for his gun but at the same time something rushed him from behind with all the weight of a express train. The air was knocked from Starsky's lungs with an audible "wumph" and he felt himself fall forwards. He had just enough time to think "shit" before he landed on his hands and knees and he felt someone or something heavy straddle his back, pushing him forwards.

'Hey!' he managed to yell before a cuff across the back of his head cut him off. A sack of some kind was pushed roughly over his head. The cloth smelled stale and old and particles of dust caught in his eyes and itched at his nose. Starsky tried to pull the sack away but someone had his hands held behind his back and as he started to protest a set of fists connected solidly with the deep, dark bruise over his left side, the world sparkled for an instant, and Starsky fell forwards, unconscious onto the floor.